submachine gun out by the time she reached the access door, and took a long breath before twisting the handle.
Locked.
Bolted from inside, and no lock to pick.
The submachine gun barked and rounds tore through the flimsy wood. Maya kicked the barrier aside and burst into a pitch-black room, pushing cobwebs from her face as she made for the light seeping beneath a door on the far end.
Voices yelled from below, and she tossed aside any subtlety and threw the door open. Gunshots rang out from downstairs, pounding into the cinderblock wall, and she waited until the volley had stopped before spraying the downstairs with the contents of the first magazine, firing indiscriminately over the balcony of the second-story landing.
A scream echoed through the house from the first floor as she switched the spent magazine for a full one, and then she was in motion, rolling onto the landing as more shots followed her. She caught a blur from near a doorway downstairs and fired two short bursts. The sound of a body falling thudded against the stone floor, and then the area was still. She waited, but heard nothing more.
Maya pushed herself to her feet and moved stealthily to the stairs. She peered over the railing and saw a body near the base and a pair of sandal-clad feet protruding from the doorway. She swept the room with the silenced muzzle of the submachine gun, but saw nothing move.
She edged to the room next to her and pulled the door wide, shielding herself from any gunfire with the wall. After a quick look into the room to confirm it was empty, she proceeded to the final doorway on the second floor and repeated the move.
She was alone.
Maya inched back to the stairs and descended to the main floor, weapon at the ready. Aside from the dead man by the stairs, sightless eyes staring at the ceiling, and his companion halfway into the kitchen, there was nobody in the house. She took cautious steps into the kitchen, skirting the second man lying in a widening pool of blood, and spotted another door.
Of course .
The cellar.
That’s where she would keep a prisoner.
And without a doubt, assuming they hadn’t moved him, that’s where Gil was.
The problem being that going down a stairway into a basement that could have any number of gunmen waiting in it was about as bad an idea as any she could imagine.
Maya glanced around and moved toward the garage. There was only one way she could see of making it through this ordeal alive.
Cut the power.
She found the breaker panel where she figured it would be and flipped off the two master switches, and then returned to the kitchen and rooted around until she found what she was looking for.
Maya pushed the basement door open and stood clear of the doorway. Even though there was precious little light in the kitchen due to the rainstorm, it was still enough to silhouette her for any shooters. The impulse of an untrained gunman would be to fire when the door opened. She was surprised when there was no barrage from below.
After five seconds of waiting, she flipped on the flashlight, and holding it with her left hand while gripping the H&K with the other, she moved across the threshold and rushed the stairs.
Gunfire exploded in the small space and a round caught Maya square in the chest, knocking her back as she lost her footing and slipped down the remaining steps, the flashlight tumbling from her grip along with the submachine gun as she landed hard.
Chapter 16
Maya sensed rather than saw the shooter approach her, and emptied the SIG Sauer from the folds of her robe into the area of the muzzle flashes. Her chest felt like someone had slammed her breastbone with a hammer, but the Kevlar vest had spared her anything worse than a bad bruise. Not so her spine and legs, which were aching from the tumble down the stairs even as the slide on the SIG Sauer locked open after the last round, the pistol empty.
She reached for the full magazine in her pocket as she ejected the spent one, rolling
Locked.
Bolted from inside, and no lock to pick.
The submachine gun barked and rounds tore through the flimsy wood. Maya kicked the barrier aside and burst into a pitch-black room, pushing cobwebs from her face as she made for the light seeping beneath a door on the far end.
Voices yelled from below, and she tossed aside any subtlety and threw the door open. Gunshots rang out from downstairs, pounding into the cinderblock wall, and she waited until the volley had stopped before spraying the downstairs with the contents of the first magazine, firing indiscriminately over the balcony of the second-story landing.
A scream echoed through the house from the first floor as she switched the spent magazine for a full one, and then she was in motion, rolling onto the landing as more shots followed her. She caught a blur from near a doorway downstairs and fired two short bursts. The sound of a body falling thudded against the stone floor, and then the area was still. She waited, but heard nothing more.
Maya pushed herself to her feet and moved stealthily to the stairs. She peered over the railing and saw a body near the base and a pair of sandal-clad feet protruding from the doorway. She swept the room with the silenced muzzle of the submachine gun, but saw nothing move.
She edged to the room next to her and pulled the door wide, shielding herself from any gunfire with the wall. After a quick look into the room to confirm it was empty, she proceeded to the final doorway on the second floor and repeated the move.
She was alone.
Maya inched back to the stairs and descended to the main floor, weapon at the ready. Aside from the dead man by the stairs, sightless eyes staring at the ceiling, and his companion halfway into the kitchen, there was nobody in the house. She took cautious steps into the kitchen, skirting the second man lying in a widening pool of blood, and spotted another door.
Of course .
The cellar.
That’s where she would keep a prisoner.
And without a doubt, assuming they hadn’t moved him, that’s where Gil was.
The problem being that going down a stairway into a basement that could have any number of gunmen waiting in it was about as bad an idea as any she could imagine.
Maya glanced around and moved toward the garage. There was only one way she could see of making it through this ordeal alive.
Cut the power.
She found the breaker panel where she figured it would be and flipped off the two master switches, and then returned to the kitchen and rooted around until she found what she was looking for.
Maya pushed the basement door open and stood clear of the doorway. Even though there was precious little light in the kitchen due to the rainstorm, it was still enough to silhouette her for any shooters. The impulse of an untrained gunman would be to fire when the door opened. She was surprised when there was no barrage from below.
After five seconds of waiting, she flipped on the flashlight, and holding it with her left hand while gripping the H&K with the other, she moved across the threshold and rushed the stairs.
Gunfire exploded in the small space and a round caught Maya square in the chest, knocking her back as she lost her footing and slipped down the remaining steps, the flashlight tumbling from her grip along with the submachine gun as she landed hard.
Chapter 16
Maya sensed rather than saw the shooter approach her, and emptied the SIG Sauer from the folds of her robe into the area of the muzzle flashes. Her chest felt like someone had slammed her breastbone with a hammer, but the Kevlar vest had spared her anything worse than a bad bruise. Not so her spine and legs, which were aching from the tumble down the stairs even as the slide on the SIG Sauer locked open after the last round, the pistol empty.
She reached for the full magazine in her pocket as she ejected the spent one, rolling
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